Some things change, some stay the same
by cjmeg1
Summary: All I wanted was a nice little loving scene at home before the wife bombshell was dropped. This is what I think nights at the Blake house might have been. Please review!


It was a typical evening in the Dr Blake household. A delicious dinner prepared by Jean had been eaten and enjoyed and now as they had on so many evenings before, they retired to the lounge room. Lucien settled in his arm chair and rustled the paper ready to catch up on local and international news. Jean took up her sewing, she was determined to make some dresses for her new granddaughter before she outgrew them and was attempting a new smocking pattern that she has seen in a magazine.

Yes, all was very much the same. Charlie was on duty and was temporarily living down at the station while his new sergeant familiarised himself with the place and Mattie had moved away the previous night but having the house to themselves was nothing new. All was as it should be.

Jean was concentrating on a particularly difficult stitch when she noticed something, or rather the absence of something. The wireless was playing softly in the back ground, some classical piece. Lucien would know what it was but there was something else missing. She looked up and realised that rather than being engrossed in his paper Lucien had not turned a single page. He was simply staring at her.

"Lucien?" she asked quizzically. "Is something the matter?"

"Yes, the couch is too far away from my chair." He replied, a small smile darting across his face.

"The couch is exactly the same distance from your chair as it has always been."

"Well now I find that it is too far. In fact if it's alright with you Jean, I think I will join you on the couch." And in saying so he quickly got up and positioned himself on the couch next to Jean. "There now, that's much more like it." And they settled back into companionable silence. Jean smiled to herself quietly, maybe things weren't quite the same after all but it was heartening to see that despite their changed and acknowledged feelings that she and Lucien could still behave with dignity and propriety despite their living proximity. The warmth of his thigh against her skirt was merely an indication of the room temperature and nothing to do with being so close to him. They were adults after all, not silly lusting teenagers and at any minute Jean could shift away from him with no regrets at all, strange that on this warm night her inclination to shift seemed to desert her. But she knew that if she wanted to she could, she just happened to be very comfortable at the moment.

Jean continued with her stitching and the rustle of the paper beside her assured her that her companion was indeed reading his paper. In fact he was moving the paper so enthusiastically that every time he turned a page, his hand brushed against hers. In turn Jean leaned further back into the couch so that their arms were moulded against each other. Not so much as a feather could have passed between them and it felt good and right.

Lucien attempted to read the same page again but realised that now on his fifth reading it was making no more sense than the first so he gave up all pretence, lay the newspaper on the coffee table, stretched and yawned and placed one arm firmly around Jean's shoulders.

"Lucien!" Jean responded in a firm voice and tried to wriggle slightly out of his grasp.

"What?" Lucien was the voice of innocence. "We're courting, isn't this what courting couples do?" And he slid over, closing the little gap that Jean had made.

Jean laid down her sewing and turned to look him.

"Lucien, we agreed in Adelaide that we would do this slowly and properly. We are one night in the house by ourselves and here we are canoodling on the couch."

"This isn't canoodling yet Jean, but I am happy to oblige." He leant in for a kiss but Jean placed her hand on his chest to halt his progress. He could see by the smile on her face that she was not angry with him so he took her hands in his.

"Jean, we've been living together for over three years and I've never laid a hand on you. I don't think we can go much slower than that."

"Yes but we agreed in Adelaide…"

"We weren't living in the same house in Adelaide. You were with Christopher and his family and I was staying in that seedy hotel. We didn't have the chance to be alone. I probably only agreed to make sure you would still come back here with me. I can't be held to promises made in another state. I've waited so long to be with you Jean, longer probably because it took me so much time to realise the treasure I had right under my nose. I don't want to waste any more time. You know don't you that I would never do anything to hurt you, or do anything that you didn't want to do."

"That's the problem Lucien. I suspect our lists of things we want to do are closer than I would like to admit. It's been so long for me. I don't even know how to go about this properly. The last time I found myself in situation where my feelings were compromised, I was a teenager, heavily chaperoned and married very young. I don't know how we do this."

"Jean." He clasped her small and capable hands in his. "I'm in no better position than you to know what we do or how we go about living as couple before we are officially a couple. I hoped we could go back to exactly the way we were but I find that is impossible. I can't be in a room and not sit with you, or touch you or kiss you goodbye when I leave the house. It's bad enough that at night I lie in my room, knowing that you are only just down the passageway and that I can't…"

"Shhh Lucien" Jean reached up and placed a finger on his lips, stopping the sentence midstream. "I know."

Lucien softly kissed the finger at his lips and Jean reached out to stroke his face. Her finger trailed along his slightly scratchy jaw and cheek. Lucien froze, revelling in the feeling of her hand gently caressing his face. He closed his eyes which seemed to make her bolder as she shifted closer and her hand crept across his shoulder and to his neck, her fingers curling around his hair. With his eyes still closed he reached for her, pulling her across his lap as he buried his lips into her neck, breathing in the scent of her skin. His lips worked their way up her neck and finally found her lips. Forgotten were the chaste kisses on the cheek, this was a kiss of lovers with open mouths and shy and hesitant tongues, darting in and exploring new territory, softly but surely.

While her hands remained knotted in his hair his hands shifted down her back, his two hands spanning the entirety of her slender frame. The pressure he applied was firm and designed to keep her as close as possible but as she moved closer of her own volition, one of his hands slipped unconsciously to her waist where her blouse and shirt had loosened and he could feel under his fingers the evidence of the silky slip she wore underneath. If he moved his hand further he would be touching her skin, a thought that did nothing the ease the growing tension he was already experiencing. He told himself that he must not scare her off by pushing this too far and with a reluctant sigh, removed his hand to safer pastures.

This small movement was enough to jar Jean to her senses. With one last sweet kiss, she moved back, patting her dishevelled hair and attempting to rearrange her clothes, all the while keeping her eyes firmly averted from Lucien. What must he think of her to behave in such a wanton way, she who had been the one urging caution?

Lucien thought she had never looked more lovely. Her eyes seemed glazed over and her cheeks flushed and the way she was gathering up her crumbled and forgotten sewing as if though it had just been misplaced, rather than crushed between two lovers, made him smile so broadly.

"Jean, look at me."

"I can't. I'm too embarrassed."

As she stood up, attempting to leave the room, he grabbed her arm. "Jean, we have nothing to be embarrassed about. This is normal, natural even. I love you as a man loves a woman, this is one part of how that love is expressed."

"But not for us, not yet. And I just finished giving you the lecture on why we should be careful. Maybe we should give some serious thought to my moving out. Just for a while."

"Do you think it would make a difference for me if you were only here during the day? That I wouldn't still be thinking of you in this way in daylight? I would only find excuses to be here more while you are. And I can kiss you just as easily after lunch as I can after dinner."

"Lucien, you are not helping."

"I am helping, by telling you what I want."

"What do you want?"

"I want you to stay here, always. I want to look across the table at you each meal time."

"Which would be fine if you were actually here for each meal."

"Jean, you know what I mean. I want a future for the two of us. I'm trying to give you time and you told me you are not ready to make an official commitment but you know I can't just go back to being what we were. I can't do it and I won't do it. I love you and I'd shout it from the Ballarat town hall if I thought for a moment it would do any good."

"I don't think that will be necessary but we are going to have to lay down some ground rules. Separate seats might be a start."

Lucien pouted like a little boy. "And where would the fun be in that?"

"Anyway, it's late and I should head to bed."

"Of course Jean." He leaned over and kissed her briefly on the cheek, not allowing any other part of his body to touch her but even that slight contact brought rushing back to him the feelings of their earlier encounter. He straightened with some difficulty but allowed Jean to head to her room without any further delays, the picture of the perfect gentleman. He watched as she reached her door, turned the handle and allowed herself one last glance and smile. "Goodnight Lucien, sleep well," before turning and shutting the door firmly behind her.

"Goodnight my Jean," he whispered to the now empty room. He turned and headed for the bathroom for what he suspected would become a nightly routine for him, a cold bath and a strong drink and whatever he did, he was not going to think about Jean in her room or what might have happened if things had continued. He would find one of his dullest medical journals and allow himself to be absorbed in facts and do his best to ignore the fact in front of him, he needed to get married and he needed to do whatever he could to convince Jean to marry him as soon as possible.


End file.
